Chakravyuh

Apply some balm for instant calm. So, an upright cop marches straight up to a villager, looks at his gangrenous leg and applies soothing cream. And hey, as if in a dream, the cop wins over an entire hostile hamlet to his side. Woe betide, if life were that simple there would be no unrest in the nation. Really.

Indeed Chakravyuh, Prakash Jha’s attempt at a political drama yet again, is simplistic to a fault. As is his wont, he lambastes the establishment, supports the underdogs to a degree, sets up a suited-booted villain. And declares that post-Independence India is dominated by a pageful of business tycoons. Hence, the exploitation of the underprivileged continues. In sum, that’s the lesson learnt from Jha, who has stated this with far more impact and conviction in Damul, Gangaajal, Apaharan. Why the repetition? No clue.
Except perhaps politics is quite a convenient gift-wrapping paper to re-re-recount the ageless Becket story — the Jean Anouilh play, once filmed with Peter O’Toole and Richard Burton. Subsequently, it also inspired Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Namak Haraam in which friends played by Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan turned into foes over ideological differences. Like it or not, neither the screenplay co-written by Anjum Rajabali and the film’s political stand have anything new to offer.
All that’s said is that Naxalites are driven to militancy because of gross inequities. Conversely some duty-conscious lawkeepers do strive to go by the rulebook. In the event, what’s to be done? Precious nothing, it would seem, except to sit back and watch the series of bullet-bang-bang encounters, unpleasant ministers, a chikni item number (Sameera Reddy, ill-at-ease), a rape incident in a police chowki and… — you get the drift.
Stylistically, Jha’s work looks as if it belongs to the 1990s, what with a cloudy haze prevailing in some of the indoor shots, dozens of interlinking shots of cars and motorcades, and quite a few dank night scenes. Plus, the background music opts for orchestral, near-Gregorian chants and those whining chorus songs which complain that life is so unfair. On that point, who wouldn’t agree?
Anyway, cut to the police dragnet which is closing in on the Naxal-Maoists in a dense jungle. In a tent, their firebrand leader (Manoj Bajpayee) is chilling out with his loyal aides, including a woman pistol-packer (Anjali Patil). Meanwhile, in the glossier world, top cop Adil Khan (Arjun Rampal) is just about patch up with his long-estranged buddy, a cellphone salesman (Abhay Deol). Mercy be!
Without much persuasion, Cop talks Cellphone Buddy into going undercover in the Naxal-ruled forest. Cool. Alas, only for a few reels. Buddy soon empathises with the rebels, accepts their mantra of violence and switches camps. He tells the Cop to go fly a kite.
That means plenty of bang-bang ahead. The raggedy police force even uses a helicopter and a micro-chip (seen in blood-soaked close-up). Honestly, suffice it to say, the script and its execution are as predictable as those lines of dialogue like a riff on Mao Zedong’s, “Power flows from the barrel of a gun” and “Oh you media people, Lord Brahma couldn’t prevent you from all the damage you do.” Come on now quit blaming the media, please! Vis-à-vis the controversial song referring to the Tatas, Birlas and the Batas, a disclaimer pops up on the screen. Eesh. What kind of a half-comment is that?
Unchecked industrialisation, for sure, has to be critiqued. In this case though, a steel plant sought to be built by baddy Kabir Bedi (stiff as ever) serves as a soft target. Are there foreign investors involved? Or is it just the tetchy tycoon and the greasy ministers who are to blame for spawning insurrectionists?
Doubtlessly Jha and writer Rajabali have their take on the issue. But whatever they articulate here is apparent even to the apolitical. As for the friends-turned-foes dramaturgy, the Becket resurrection doesn’t quite gel in this adaptation. Also, the characterisation of the top cop’s wife — a police officer (Esha Gupta) herself — is merely an add-on. Since the glamour female quotient is hardly visible, post-intermission she’s transferred to stand by her husband. Sweet!
Of the acting crew, Manoj Bajpayee is impressive despite an abbreviated role. Esha Gupta is hopelessly miscast. Anjali Patil is credible as the aggressive Naxalite but could have avoided those plucked eyebrows. Or was there a beauty parlour around in the jungle? Both Arjun Rampal and Abhay Deol are sufficiently restrained and efficient.
Overall, though, Chakravyuh isn’t worth a vyuh…er…view.